


SWTOR Shorts

by solemnwar



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Gen, mild sexual themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-08-23 19:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solemnwar/pseuds/solemnwar
Summary: Short stories gathered into one place.Tags will be updated as needed.





	1. Body Issues

**Sith Inquisitor/Andronikos Revel**

 

Jaeyth looked down at the scale with a grim fatalism, watching the digital numbers tick up until settling on their final number.

She had _gained weight_.

With a long sigh, she let her head thud gently against the cool tile of her Kaas City apartment’s bathroom, despair settling on her shoulders. She’d always been on the heftier side, and lately it would appear that it had gotten _worse_. She glowered at the protrusion that was her stomach, as if that would be enough to make it shrink.

_What does he even see in me?_

As if on cue, her scruffy pirate companion shuffled into the bathroom, still half-asleep and clad only in the boxers he wore to bed. And he only wore _those_ because she’d put her foot down and told him he _had to_.

“Mornin’ Sith,” he mumbled, then yawned. He glanced down at her feet. “Checkin’ the scales again, huh?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, purple-red skin darkening as she blushed in shame. “Yes...”

“Dunno why you even care,” he said, absently scratching his shoulder.

“It’s gone _up_ , Andronikos!” She whined. “I’ve been doing _everything right!_ I’ve been watching what I eat, I’ve been getting my exercises done- _on top of_ all the running around I have to do for the empire. And still, I am presented with _this_ atrocious number!” She scowled back down at the scale.

“Jaeyth, you’re fine,” he said.

“No I’m not! I’m _fat!_ ” She snapped.

“So?”

The simple question threw her off guard, and she stared at him owlishly. “What?”

“Who cares if you’re fat?” He asked. “I don’t. No one else on this ship cares.”

“But...”

Andronikos wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on top of hers. “Being fat doesn’t stop you from being a super powerful Sith Lord. It hasn’t stopped you from gaining the respect of those stuffy moffs. And it hasn’t stopped you from being sexy as all hell.”

“I’m _not_ ,” she mumbled. “I’m... I’m all _gross_ and flabby...”

He snorted. “You’re super hot, Jaeyth. There’s very little keeping me from dragging you into the shower and having you right there.”

Her ears burned. “Andronikos! Ngwyn is _in the next room!_ ”

“Yeah, your wrath friend is one thing,” he grumbled. “When can we kick her out?”

“She’s going through a rough time right now!” Jaeyth protested. “I’m being her friend and letting her stay with me.”

His lips pursed. “If we can keep quiet...”

“Andronikos!”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying...” he grinned.

“Don’t know why you settle for me,” she sighed. “With your looks, you could have anyone.”

She could see his expression in the mirror, and his face quite clearly was saying “damn it I thought I’d derailed us from this topic”. _Sorry, Andronikos._ “Sure I could, if I wanted to,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else, I want _you_. You’re the crazy Sith I fell in love with.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you’re tenacious as hell, don’t take crap from anyone, really damn smart, easy to talk to, you laugh at my lame jokes and put up with me leaving all the time...” He replied, counting off on his fingers. “Plus, you’ve got an _amazing_ rack...”

Jaeyth rolled her eyes.

“Also, I’m feelin’ obligated to point out that with all the running around and exercising you’re doing, you’ve probably gained a lot of muscle,” he added. “And muscle weighs more than fat.”

She blinked at him.

“Your weight gain is cuz you’re gaining muscle, Sith, not because your dieting and shit ain’t working.”

“... oh,” she said in a small voice, feeling incredibly foolish.

“And I mean, you being built would be _very hot_ in its own way,” he continued, “but even if you were getting fatter, I wouldn’t really care.”

“If you say “because there’s more of you to love” I will _set you on fire_ ,” she hissed.

“I wasn’t gonna,” he said, with a face that said he _absolutely was_. “Above all it’s _your personality_ I’m in love with. I’m not really a picky guy when it comes to looks.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” she said flatly.

“I still think you’re easily in the top 10 hottest chicks I’ve been with,” he said.

“Not the number one?” She said dryly.

“Mmm, there was this one Rattataki chick who’d let me-”

“I don’t want to know!” Jaeyth interrupted, flushing deeply. She’d already done quite a few...  _questionable_ things with the pirate, she didn’t want to know the depths his depravity reached.

“Heh, you’d never go for it, anyways,” he chuckled.

“Will you two just _fuck already_ and get it over with so I can go back to sleep?!” A voice shouted from the other side of the bathroom wall.

“Oops,” said Andronikos, not looking chastened in the slightest.

“I’m _not_ having sex where she can _hear me_ ,” said Jaeyth.

“Well, _our_ bedroom is _upstairs_ ,” he murmured. “And there are some things I want to try that require a bed anyways...”

“You’re incorrigible.”

He laughed. “You love me anyways, Sith.”

She yelped as he quickly scooped her up, not looking like he was struggling with her weight at all, but _that_ didn’t mean anything. He was a pirate, he had to haul heavy boxes and stuff around. He was bound to be strong... but despite that nagging voice in the back of her head, she found herself willing to believe that he found her attractive. That he _was_ telling the truth.

She rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs. “Tell you what, pirate,” she murmured, “If you can beat your previous record in getting me off, I’ll let you try... you know.”

Both his eyebrows went up. “Guess I got you in a better mood, huh?” He teased.

“I’m sure you can put me in an even better one.”

“Aye, aye, my lord.”


	2. Cvijeta

**Sith Inquisitor/Andronikos Revel**

 

“So, Sith, tell me about yourself,” said Andronikos as he casually looked around his new boss’ ship. It wasn’t what you’d call a luxury cruiser, small and definitely geared for a small crew, but it was certainly nicer than a lot of ships he’d served on.

The girl- Cvijeta- looked up from the bag she was unpacking, blue-silver eyes blinking rapidly a few times as she processed the question. “Like what?” She asked, tilting her head, purple strands of hair falling across her dark brow before she pushed them back.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I like to know my employers, and I don’t know a lot about you.”

“Well you know my name, isn’t that enough?” She said, resuming her task.

“Your name that is borderline unpronounceable?” He grumbled.

“It’s not _that_ difficult, Andronikos. Tsvee-e-ta. Simple!”

“Can I call you Vee for short?”

She cast him a disapproving look, then sighed. “Oh, fine.”

“And I’d like to know you a little better than just your name, occupation, and the fact that you’re apparently a big softy,” he said.

“I’m _not_ a big softy,” she protested, putting the now-empty bag in a locker. She picked up the contents of the bag and casually tossed them into what he presumed to be her room. _Apparently she’s not big on being tidy._ “I know Wilkes betrayed you, but he did you a favour, really. If he and the rest of the crew _hadn’t_ mutinied, you’d be half-mad from the artifact, too.”

Andronikos grimaced. That artifact was currently safely locked up in ship’s storage, using Sith methods and protocols, but he still didn’t feel very comfortable being on the same ship as it. “He still mutinied. And stole my blasters. Which I never got back, by the way.”

“I’ll get you newer, nicer blasters,” she assured him with a brilliant smile, patting his arm as she passed by.

“Being a Sith Apprentice pays well, huh?”

“I suppose? I get an allowance from Zash, and if I do any work for the military or mercenary work I get paid for that, too,” she said. “But whether or not it pays _well_... I don’t really have a basis of comparison.”

“Grew up sheltered, or poor?” He had strong suspicions it was the latter, but you never knew. One of the most vicious bounty hunters he’d ever known had grown up un _believa_ bly sheltered.

“I was _less_ than poor. I was a slave,” she said simply, and the carefree ease of which she stated that simple fact took him off guard. “But, now I’m not. I got _lucky_. I was given a _chance_ to become more than what I was and I _succeeded_.”

He was getting the feeling that this was something she didn’t really want to talk about. “So what’s with the getup?” He asked, gesturing.

She looked down at herself. She was wearing a cropped jacket over what was effectively just a _bra_ , a red scarf wrapped around her neck, her midriff left bare, with her legs the most modestly covered part of her with some standard leather pants and boots. “What about it?”

“It’s not very Sith-like,” he said dryly.

“I like it.”

“Looks a bit drafty.”

Her eyebrows went up. “I wouldn’t have taken a _pirate_ to be so _puritan_.”

“I’m _not;_ I just don’t think children should be running around half naked.”

“Children- how _old_ do you think I am?” She asked, eyes wide with incredulity.

“Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing younger than you actually are,” he chuckled. “You can’t be older than... what, 16? 17?”

“I’m _twenty years old!_ ” She all but shouted, voice going up several octaves. _I’ve hit a nerve_. “In fact, in a few months I’ll be _twenty-one_!”

“Uh-huh. Next you’ll be telling me that you’re naturally purple-haired.”

She tugged on one of the short strands. “No, that’s a dye job. I thought it would be fun. I’m naturally blonde.”

He stared at her, and her complexion that was as dark as his. “Bull _shit_ you are.”

“I am!” She insisted, frowning. “I take mostly after my father... presumably... but I get my eyes and my hair from my mom.”

“You are _not_ a natural blonde.”

She glared at him. “Should I take off my pants and prove it?”

“If you wanna,” he grinned. He knew she wouldn’t do it.

She rolled her eyes in an overly dramatic fashion. “ _Men!”_ She said to the ceiling. “Weren’t you just saying that you were uncomfortable with how I was dressed because you thought I was a minor?”

“I was calling your bluff. Show me a birth certificate showing your age, maybe I’ll change my mind,” he said easily. “You mind if I do the takeoff? We probably shouldn’t keep Zash waiting.”

She gave him a dismissive wave of her hand, muttering to herself something about “lunkheaded pirates” as she strode off to look in on her monstrous bodyguard, or whatever he was.

 _This’ll be fun_ , he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Two chapters in a row about the inquisitor huh"  
> LOOK SITH INQUISITOR IS MY FAVOURITE OKAY?! ;-;


	3. Questioning

**Jedi Knight and Jedi Consular**

 

Outumne took a sip out of her drink, a blue, fruity concoction that tasted a bit like grapes and sour candy. Beside her, Bronislava glared at her own drink, something that looked brown and utterly unappealing.

She really didn’t understand her taste in alcohol.

“Well, we’re here,” she said, leaning back into the plush fabric of the booth. “What was so important that you called me over holo, frantic, to meet you here?”

Bronislava sighed, running her hands through her hair. “Now that we’re here, I’m… I’m not really sure what to say. Everything’s been… _confusing_ lately.”

The silver-haired Mirialan cocked an eyebrow. “Well, it _must_ be serious if you’re out of words!” She teased her friend. “You’re always so sure of yourself, so confident! It’s your most attractive quality.”

“I thought you said it was my _horns_ that had you attracted to me,” Bronislava said dryly, taking a sip of her drink. “They were, in your words, “small and adorable”, if I recall correctly.”

“I hadn’t seen a Zabrak before! And anyways, we’re not talking about _us_ , we’re talking about _you_! You sounded pretty upset, you know; I’ve been worried!”

Bronislava looked down at her drink again. “It’s… upon some reflection, it’s probably a stupid thing to have been so worked up about,” she mumbled.

“Isla, if you end up having dragged me here for nothing, I’m telling _everyone_ what happened during our fifth year of training,” Outumne said peevishly. “Do you know how much the alliance representatives complain when I do _anything_?”

“I’m so glad that _you_ got saddled with the Barsen’thor title, and not me,” she said.

“ _Isla!_ ”

“… on Balmorra, we picked up this doctor,” she said slowly. “He just goes by Doc. I’m not sure what his real name is.”

“I think I might’ve seen you with him in the spaceport,” Outumne mused. “I’d wanted to say hi, but you looked like you were in a hurry and I had my own business to take care of. He’s cute.”

“Yes, I think so, too.”

Outumne blinked at her friend, waiting for her to continue, before the meaning of what she’d just said sank in. “Wait, wait — you find a _man_ to be _attractive?_ ” She gaped, almost knocking over her drink in surprise. “ _You_ , who _always_ went on and on about how you _could not possibly_ understand why I liked men along with women?”

Bronislava slouched into the booth, half-hidden under the table, mumbling, “See, this sort of reaction was why I was hesitant…”

Outumne took a breath, calming herself. “I’m sorry, it’s just… such a surprise.  I always figured that if you were like me, you would’ve figured out you liked guys long before now.”

“I don’t… really think I like guys though?” She said, sitting back up straight. “I know, I know, it doesn’t make sense. “How can you say you don’t like guys but you’re attracted to a guy?” is what I’ve been saying to myself for the last few weeks. But there’s no other guy who makes me feel the same way. It’s _just_ him.”

Outumne shrugged. “Sometimes people are more attracted to one gender than the other. I know that I like women a little more than I like men, it’s _so_ much easier for me to find a pretty girl than a handsome guy.”

“I suppose…” she said dubiously. “It’s all so… _disconcerting_. Here I was, happy with what I thought about myself, and then he shows up and throws a wrench in everything. And he’s so _annoying?!_ He’s _constantly_ flirting with any girl that moves! He has no sense of boundaries! If I had to be attracted to a guy, _why’d it have to be him?!_ ”

Outumne’s eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t tried anything, has he?” She asked. “Do I need to beat him up?”

“He left me alone when I yelled at him that I was a lesbian and nothing was ever going to happen. He’s kind of sleazy, and has commitment issues, but he isn’t a bad person,” Bronislava assured her friend. “Besides, if he _did_ try anything, I’m pretty sure my padawan would get him before I did. She _really_ doesn’t like him.”

“Hmm,” Outumne hummed, taking another sip of her drink. “Maybe a guy with commitment issues is what you need. Have a little fun, test things out, without someone who’s gonna make things all complicated with a relationship.”

“Casual relationships don’t really work out for me too well, you know that Otty,” she frowned. “Remember Amber?”

“I try my very best not to remember Amber in any capacity,” she said flatly. “I can’t really make this decision for you, Isla. I think a little bit of fun would be good for you, but if it makes you too uncomfortable, might be best to leave it alone. I mean, you _did_ say you told him you were a lesbian.”

“Oh, _stars_ , what if he starts saying stuff like how he’s so handsome he turns gay girls straight?” Groaned Bronislava, putting her head in her hands. “I’d have to kill him, and then I’d have to explain it to the council, and I really don’t have the time for that sort of nonsense!”

Outumne laughed. “Of course you’re more concerned with the _bureaucracy_ than with the _morality_.”

Bronislava squirmed in the booth. “Plus, I mean… there’s… there’s the _physical_ aspect…” She mumbled, her cheeks turning dark. “I…   guess that there’d be a few similarities, you know, like kissing… and hugging… and if he… you know, went down on me and all… but… what do I do about _his_ parts?”

“Bet you’re wishing you let me use the strap-on now,” Outumne giggled, unable to help the teasing.

“That thing was weird and gross and I didn’t want it anywhere near me!”

Her friend gave her a look. “If you think a _strap on_ looks weird and gross, just wait until you see _an actual penis_.”

Bronislava made a face. “I’ve seen a dick! I’ve been on the holonet!” She said, pouting. “And I think they’re weird and gross, too…”

“Yeah, they’re not very pretty,” Outumne agreed. “But they’re fun to play with.”

“How do you even… what do you… you know, when you…” she trailed off, mumbling, her whole face going dark as she blushed.

“You’re too adorable for words,” Outumne giggled, hugging her. “He’s the flirty type, right? Been with a lot of women?” Bronislava nodded into her shoulder. “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. If you _do_ decide to be physical, just have him go slow and let him know if anything’s uncomfortable. It’s not so different from being with women- communication is the most important aspect!”

“I don’t really believe you, but I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

“Also, it’s important to relax and not instinctively tense up when he goes inside you,” Outumne continued, subtly tightening her grip so she couldn’t escape. “Yes, yes, this is embarrassing to talk about but I’m not having you go in unprepared!” She paused. “And I’m not let you have _him_ go in unprepared, either. We should probably stop by a sex shop and pick up some things…”

“I haven’t even decided if I want to yet!” Bronislava complained, struggling against her grip, and the other patrons in the bar were starting to give them curious looks. “This is highly unnecessary, let me go!”

“Oh, hush,” said Outumne, but she let her go anyways. “Go finish your drink. I just want you to be prepared, just in case you _do_. I know you. You like to do things spur-of-the-moment.”

“Fine,” Bronislava sulked. “I _hate_ going into those shops though. Creepy dildos all over the place…”

“Maybe we should get you a small one to acclimatise you to penetration,” Outumne mused, swirling her drink in her glass, and Bronislava slammed back what remained of her drink and gestured the waiter over to get another one.

She was going to need to be a _lot_ drunker for this…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's curious Outumne is pronounced as "autumn".  
> Also I love Bronislava and her extreme awkwardness and I should probably write more about her and Doc's relationship struggles because boy howdy she struggles.


	4. Getting off Tatooine

**Sith Inquisitor/Andronikos Revel**

 

“I cannot wait to be off this intolerably hot dust-ball,” Yra complained as she strode quickly across the hanger bay of Tatooine, longing for the cooler climate of her ship. Tatooine did not have enough resources for the spaceport to be climate controlled, except for the offices, so the inside was just as hot as the outside, sometimes more so.

“It has its charms, but I suppose you Sith and your robes don’t do so well in the heat, huh?” Chuckled her newest companion, a pirate named Andronikos. She hadn’t  _intended_ to bring him back with her, he’d just sort of… invited himself along.

And she’d let him, because he was handy in a fight, but mostly because he was cute, in a roguish, unkempt sort of way.

Not that she would ever admit to this, of course.

“I am hoping that my next destination is more civilized, with people speaking proper Basic and making the acquaintance of a bath more than once a month,” she said, and even to her own ears, she sounded snobby.

Andronikos didn’t respond, preoccupied with examining her ship. “Not a bad looking ship,” he commented, lightly jumping up the ramp. “I guess the Sith get all the nice toys.”

Yra snorted at that. “You should see the ship of one of my acquaintances,” she said, following close behind him. “ _Her_  ship looks more like a luxury–”

There was a weird, metallic creaking noise, the ramp shuddered, the motor made an even weirder noise, and then everything fell to the ground. Andronikos had already made it up to the landing, but Yra hadn’t, and with an undignified yelp she went down with the now very broken ramp.

With the quick reflexes that made him an excellent shot, Andronikos grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up, saving her from falling, and looked down. “I take back my assessment of this ship,” he said.

“Unhand me!” Yra said tightly, squirming. He wasn’t being at all ungentlemanly, but she was pressed up against him and she found herself liking the feeling, which meant of course she hated it.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, letting her go. “Not even a “thank you” for saving you…”

“It is hardly a long fall,” she said, brushing the wrinkled out of her robe and decidedly  _not_ looking at him, feeling warm in the face for reasons other than the heat. “I would have bruised naught but my ego, which is smarting  _anyways_.” She punched the security code into the door, and added, “If you want to be  _actually_ useful, you can see to getting that repaired!”

She stomped her way inside, luckily missing Andronikos’ eye roll and sarcastic salute to her back. “Aye, aye, Captain…”

He jumped down to the ground, putting his hands in his pockets as he leisurely made his way to the port authorities.  _High-strung, isn’t she?_  He would have thought that she was some high-born Sith, spoiled and mad that she was sent running around doing errands and schlubbing with the low lives, but something about that didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe it was her cagey, suspicious attitude, untrusting and stand-offish. She put on a good front, but she had a look in her eyes that he’d seen before, in people who’d been dealt an unkind hand by life. She’d felt much too thin underneath those robes of hers, too. Wherever she’d come from before, she definitely hadn’t been  _spoiled_.

She was cute, though.

“Well at least it won’t be boring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a writing prompt on tumblr. "Malfunctioning Ramp".


	5. Broken Ship

**Smuggler/Corso Riggs**

 

The sound of cursing from within the confines of the freighter echoed across the loading dock, drawing Corso’s attention from the shipping manifest he was going over. As he neared, the cursing grew louder, more eloquent, and strung together into creative descriptors that, while impossible, were nevertheless impressive.

He peered into one of the maintenance tunnels, and the cursing crescendoed into one particularly emphatic “FUCK!”, and a hydrospanner went flying past his head and bouncing off the floor.

“Is everything alright in there captain?” He drawled, looking to see where the hydrospanner had gone.

“Of course it fucking isn’t!” Aefre seethed, sticking her head out with a scowl.

“A lady shouldn’t use such language,” he chastised. She responded by giving him a stiff middle finger. “Now that’s just plain mean.”

“I can’t figure out what’s the matter with this stupid ship,” the Mirialan scowled, dropping out of the shaft. “Nothing wants to work!”

“Maybe a break is in order. Recharge your batteries,” he suggested.

“Hmph. Nothin’ worth doing on this moon.”

“I could think of a few things,” he grinned. She looked at him, eyebrow raised in question, and he wiggled his own suggestively.

“You really want sex when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?”

“Captain, I’d want you no matter what state yer in. That is love.” He paused. “Plus, the shower still works.”

Aefre gave a bark of laughter. “That it does!” She grabbed his arm and hauled him off, surprisingly strong for such a tiny thing. “Let’s go, Corso, then maybe we can have some dinner after.”

“Aye, aye captain!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another tumblr prompt. "Hydrospanner".


	6. How is Baking?!

**Sith Warrior/Malavai Quinn**

 

Malavai Quinn stared at the scene before him, wondering how exactly something wtih such benign intentions had given such malignant results.

“The cake is on fire,” he said blandly, as if commenting on the colour of a passing car.

“It is  _not_  on fire!” Rozalija protested, “It’s just… burnt.”

As if the universe was listening, a small flame fluttered into being on the top of the very charred cake.

The Sith threw her hands up in disgust. “I don’t understand! I picked the simplest recipe that there was!” She raged. “It even said it was “idiot proof” in the title! Does that mean I’m some sort of… of  _super idiot???”_

Quinn’s mouth twitched, but otherwise he was able to keep his composure. Barely. “You’re not an idiot, my Lord. Your talents just lie… elsewhere.”  _Far, far away from kitchens._

She pouted beneath her mask, crossing her arms. “I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday,” she complained.

“And I appreciate the thought,” he assured her. “And isn’t that all that matters?”

“No.” She said flatly.

He laughed, unable to help himself, and she shot him an annoyed look, obviously sulking. He tugged her over to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Maybe a cake was too ambitious,” he said, kissing her on top of her head. “Let’s clean this up, and I’ll show you something simple to make. That I like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr prompt. "The cake is on fire."


	7. Falling

**Sith Warrior/Malavai Quinn**

 

            He watched her as she carefully arranged her red hair around her horns, gathering the strands to clip them together at the back of her head, although a few locks always managed to escape to fall before her ears.

            Tawa-ret, once the apprentice to Darth Baras, although a Lord in her own right now, examined her reflection in the mirror, eventually deciding that her appearance met whatever standards her approval required, and turned to him with a soft smile. “Are you ready, Quinn?”

            Once, he’d been disturbed by the familiarity; for a number of reasons but mostly because she was an alien, a red-skinned Zabrak with the striking black tattoos that they were best known for. That Darth Baras had taken her in as his favoured apprentice had been bad enough, but she’d taken an instant liking to him that he’d had to bite his tongue and suffer through her flirtations.

            He’d underestimated her abilities, expecting her to fail at her first hurdle, and had been amazed to see her breeze through the obstacles as if they weren’t even there. Even after recalculating, she continued to surprise him with what she could accomplish, and all in such a small time frame. By the time her mission on Balmorra came to a close, he could even admit to a grudging respect of her abilities.

            He had expected that to be the last of their interactions.

            “Ready and able, My Lord,” he replied with a slight bow, not missing the dramatic roll of her eyes as he did so.

            “Honestly, Quinn, you really _do_ need to lighten up,” she said with some amusement. “There’s no need to be this formal with the woman whose bed you’re sharing.”

            Not something he had ever expected to do. “I’ll do my best, my Lord.”

            “I do have a name, Quinn.”

            “And it is a lovely name... my Lord.”

            She sighed. “I suppose I should be grateful that you don’t call me “My Lord” in bed.”

            “Yes, I have been quite remiss in my formalities on that front,” he said, maintaining a straight face, if barely.

            She shot him an annoyed look, and he smiled slightly in response.

            When Darth Baras had released him from his service, he had expected that to be the end of it, but the Sith had had other opinions on the matter. While Tawa-ret and some of her associates —a Pureblood Sith named Byz, and a Cathar woman who he had yet to learn the name of and whom he suspected was in Imperial intelligence — remained on Balmorra to help Darth Lachris subdue the planet, he had been looking for new postings to apply to. His career had suffered greatly the last ten years, and he had been eager to restore it.

            And then Baras had contacted him again, to have him take his place on Tawa-ret’s ship to keep an eye on his apprentice, and his loyalty to the man who’d salvaged his career was such that he had accepted without question... although inwardly he had not been happy with the idea.

            He had waited for Tawa-ret in the hangar bay her ship resided in, acting as if he could think of no better way to help the Empire than under her command, amazed at himself that he hadn’t choked on the words he was saying to an _alien_.

            “It’s a good thing you’re cute, Imperial,” she muttered, “Or else you might find yourself in trouble.”

            “I would hope my abilities as a soldier would be more of a deterrent to trouble than my looks, My Lord,” he said mildly.

            “Hmm.”

            Quinn wasn’t sure when his feelings towards Tawa-ret had changed. He’d carefully rebuffed her advances at every turn, citing military regulations, even though he knew they didn’t apply to her... or that she wouldn’t care, even if they did. At the very least she never _pushed_ the matter, even if she never dropped it entirely.

            Time and familiarity had a way of changing things, however, and soon he had found himself — much to his horror — drawn to the dynamic woman. She was confident and awe-inspiring in her abilities; powerful and fierce, but she was not prone to the selfishness and cruelty of most Sith... for the most part.

Above all, she put the good of the Empire first, even if it caused her difficulty. She would never waste a resource because of one failure, something that would doom an Imperial to a painful death under any other Sith, but she didn’t tolerate deliberate sabotage and in-fighting.

            All things that he held in high regard.

            And in spite of himself, he found her attractive, too, if prone to some very inappropriate choices in garments. Or lack thereof; she seemed to despise pants, and for the first while he spent a great deal of time looking _up_. Zabraks _were_ considered near-humans, and they had more in common with humans than not. Her eyes were a lovely shade of green that almost seemed to sparkle when she was merry and darkened when feeling intense emotions.

            Her eyes were often dark, when watching him.

            Quinn offered his arm to her. “May we depart, My Lord?”

            “I suppose we must,” she said, taking the offered arm. She was slightly taller than him, made more so by the heeled boots she wore, and a part of him felt that it was appropriate that he was always looking up to her. “I would rather be fighting than going to these nonsense society events.”

            “I would say that a society event is easier on my nerves, but considering who will be there...” he murmured.

            She laughed, leaning into him. “I think the battlefield is safer!”

            He’d never thought he’d be so worried about her safety. Of fearing that one day, she wouldn’t move fast enough, or he wouldn’t be good enough, and she’d be lost to him. He’d already thought he’d lost her once, when Baras had turned on her, fearing she’d move against him, having grown more powerful than anyone could have anticipated.

            Too powerful to be taken out by such a cowardly trick, as it turned out.

            Now she was the Emperor’s Wrath, and Hell bent on revenge on her former Master. And a bit about the good of the Empire in there, too, she was quick to point out.

            Quinn hadn’t been sure where he stood, then. Since he was travelling with Tawa-ret, was he considered to be a disposable asset? Was he to meet the same fate as so many of Baras’ spies and agents, many of whom had met their end at Tawa-ret’s own lightsaber? He could have left her service, but what good would it have done?

            And by then, he’d already started to develop feelings for her.

            “I still don’t think it’s wise to go,” he said, frowning slightly. “Baras might not directly act against you, but that doesn’t rule out indirect action... it only takes a moment to poison your drink...”

            “You worry too much, Captain,” she waved him off. “I have you to watch out for me, don’t I?”

            “Of course, My Lord.”

            If only she knew he wasn’t as safe as she thought he was. He hadn’t had to wait long to find out where he stood with Baras. He had soon contacted Quinn, on a private, encrypted channel, and instructed him to keep an eye on Tawa-ret and pass along information on what she was doing and where, and with who.

            And, ever-dutiful, ever-loyal, he had obeyed, even as his two loyalties tore him apart. He had owed _everything_ to Baras, even the relationship he now had with Tawa-ret. What was he to do?

            _You are a coward, Malavai. You don’t want_ this _to stop, so you don’t tell her, even though there’s only one end now: your death, and her hurt._ Stupid enough to carry on his double life, his warring loyalties, but not stupid enough to believe he would ever ultimately _win_. One day Baras would call on him to strike, and he would.

            And even as her heart was breaking, Tawa-ret would end his life.

            “I hope that Vette will behave,” Tawa-ret sighed as she punched in the codes to open the _Fury’s_ doors. “Jaesa has experience in navigating high society from her time in Alderaan, at least, and Pierce has the benefit of being a man in uniform. And not too bad looking.”

            He didn’t even try to hide his grimace.

            She laughed, pleased at his petty jealousy. She always liked it when his base nature wore through his strict military bearing. She kissed his cheek. “I think we’ve tarried long enough; if we take any longer, I’m sure Vette will have set the entire place ablaze.”

            “You’re the one who got... distracted,” he said delicately.

            “Takes two to be “distracted”, Quinn,” she said impishly, and tugged him along. “Perhaps if we’re lucky, we can find a closet to get “distracted” in later!”

            As they made their way out of the space dock, Quinn savoured the feel of her arm through his, the way she walked just a bit too close for propriety, the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume, the darkness of her eyes as she watched him.

            Until the inevitable, bitter end, Quinn would not take moments like these for granted. He would commit them all to memory, and bring them with him to whatever lay beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite thing about the Quinncident is how many headcanon hoops we all go through to make it make any fucking sense lmao


	8. Mild Concerns

**_Sith Inquisitor/Andronikos Revel_ **

 

            The bed, Yra was starting to find, was not conducive to a researching environment. It wasn’t even as comfortable as you would think it would be; she had better back support at her desk. Mostly, however, it was the linger idea of “sleep” that it slipped into her subconscious, making her eyes feel heavy and harder to concentrate.

            She yawned, jaw popping, and Andronikos (the entire reason she was _in_ the bed, instead of at her desk) glanced over, and a strange sort of grimace crossed his face, and then was gone.

            “What?” She asked, frowning.

            “It’s nothin’,” he said, a little too quickly for her liking.

            “ _Andronikos._ ”

            “Seriously, Yra, it’s nothin’, just one of those passin’ thoughts that don’t mean nothin’,” he said.

            “Well, if it “don’t mean nothing’” then it’s not a problem to tell me what it was then, is it?” She said, eyes narrowing.

            He held her gaze for a moment, then sighed, looking at the ceiling. “Just, y’know, sometimes, when I’m rubbin’ one out,” he said, ignoring her muttered _“classy”_ , “I think of you goin’ down on me, nevermind how unlikely that probably is cuz you think my _dick looks weird._ ”

            “ _All_ penises look weird, Andronikos,” Yra said blandly. “Yours is just... not what I’m used to.”

            “Yeah cuz in the Republic they don’t _cut off parts of their dicks!”_

            “And this doesn’t explain that weird look you just gave me.”

            “Yeah I was gettin’ to that,” he grumbled. “It’s a hot fantasy, sure, but then you go and yawn sometimes and I see all those sharp teeth y’got on account of you bein’ Sith and suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad that I probably won’t ever get a blow job from you.”

            Yra stared at him for a solid ten seconds before her composure collapsed and she fell back into the pillows, laughing hard enough to make her stomach hurt.

            “Well at least _one_ of us thinks it’s funny,” he muttered. “And it’s not an _unreasonable_ concern, y’know. Y’like to _bite_.”

            “I like to bite your _neck_ ,” she managed to get out between bouts of giggling. “Do you _really_ think I would bite your _penis?!_ ”

            “More I’m worried of you like, nicking it...”

            Yra collapsed into another bout of uncontrollable laughter, barely managing to choke in a breath while Andronikos grumbled complaints about his concerns not being taken seriously.

            It took a minute before she was able to compose herself, although bubbles of laughter continued to come up. “It’s only a _few_ teeth that are sharp, you know,” she giggled, looking up at him. “And it’s not like I haven’t... you know...”

            “Sucked on a dick,” he finished for her, blunt as always.

            “And I managed to not...” She snickered. “To not “nick” them in the process.”

            “I’m not gonna hear the end of this, am I?” He sighed.

            “Mmm, I’ll probably bring it up sometimes,” she giggled. “It’s funny!”

            His mouth twitched. “Well, maybe a little.”

            Yra sidled over to him, resting her head on his lap, having given up on getting any work done. “It’s _very_ funny.”

            “Aw, come on, that’s mean, puttin’ your head there with the recent conversation,” he jokingly protested. “Gonna get a fella all hot’n’bothered.”

            “Poor baby.”

            “I’m not hearin’ a whole lot of sympathy.”

            “It’s not like fellatio is _entirely_ off the table,” she reminded him. “The mood would just have to strike me.”

            “Not to be a dick about it, but you don’t gotta lot of “moods”.”

            “Not for _myself_ ,” she murmured, “but I like pleasing _you_.”

            “Don’t seem right, me gettin’ all the fun in the bedroom... and elsewhere... and you not gettin’ much of anything.”

            “I find it plenty fun to watch you react to my touch,” she purred. “I like the way your expressions change, the sounds you make, all the little involuntary twitches caused by _me_. It’s an empowering feeling, being the cause of all that.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Besides, when the mood strikes _me_ , you more than make up for it,” she reassured him.

            He grinned. “Yeah, I’m pretty good in bed.”

            “I told you not to get a big head about it, pirate.”

            “And _I_ told you it was too late for that,” he reminded her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of my sillier ones. I don't know why I concern myself over the minute details of these two nerds' sex life so much.  
> I guess I should mention there are two head canons at work here:  
> 1\. Sith purebloods have sharper canines (and more sharp teeth) than humans do.  
> 2\. Imperials tend to circumcise penises. The Republic generally doesn't (exceptions abound for both, and the Republic especially is made up of lots of cultures).  
> Neither of these are supported by canon but I do what I want.


End file.
